Only On BTV
by innocentkiss
Summary: James Suneoka is manipulating the BAG dancers for his own entertainment. BUT WHY?
1. The First Alliance

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"ONLY ON BTV"  
  
-Fanfiction by RAVEgirl [RAVEgirl_669@hotmail.com]  
-Bust-A-Groove and all characters are (c) 989 Studios, Avex Trax, Enix, Frame Graphics, and Metro  
-Special thanks to Blue Dog and Girl Glycerine! =)  
  
[Blue Dog's site: http://www.geocities.com/cyndrid/bustagroove.html]  
[Girl Glycerine's website: http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/outlinez_bagz/]  
=*=*=*=*=*=*=  
  
~Ch. 1: THE FIRST ALLIANCE  
  
It had been about 5 minutes and three men had already banded together for survival. A camerman filmed their negotiations. They were three young men, about the same age, but pretty diverse. They each sat around a card table -- the black guy and white guy were busily smoking, and the man of unknown descent was boredly playing with his lower lip, his eyes half closed.  
"Maybe we should name our new alliance," declared the black guy (Strike).   
"The Homey Crew," said the man of unknown descent (Heat).   
"What the Hell is that?" mumbled the white man (Hiro) around his cigarette.  
"You should be in 'The Homo Crew'," Heat couldn't resist taunting the well-dressed, effeminate white man.  
"Should not," Hiro protested with a slight frown on his face. He made a mental note to look up the word "homo" later.  
"NO!" barked Strike. "I am not gonna be in 'The Homey Crew'."  
"How about 'THA Homey Crew'," suggested Heat.  
"That's the same exact name," pointed out Hiro.  
"How about 'The 3 Homeys'," Heat said.   
"Why does our alliance have to have the word 'homey' in it?" Strike said, annoyed. "Is it 'cuz I'm black? Is that it?"  
"NO, it's 'cuz you're a gang member, but if being black helps, well BUYA!!" Heat yelled.  
"OK, fine, we're the '3 Homeys'," Strike grumbled. "Forget it, it don't matter what's our alliance name. What matters is, who is the Head Homey. I nominate me."  
"Nuh-uh," Heat said immediately.   
Strike sighed, and cleared his throat. "It's like this -- " (He began rapping) "I get to be the leader for my guns and reputation, Heat can be the driver 'cuz he provides the transportation, and Hiro is our playboy who hooks us up with ladies through his self-glorification." Strike finished and sat back in his chair, while puffing on his smokeable, illegal substance (pot) that he's required to smoke because -- it's what people expect of him.  
"It's no wonder why your rap album only sold 5 copies," Heat mumbled quietly into his gloved fist.  
"The l-ladies?" Hiro repeated, fumbling his cigarette.  
"I don't wanna be the 'Driver Homey'," Heat said. "If you get to be the 'Head Homey', and Hiro gets to be the 'Pimp Homey', I wanna be something cool!"   
"P-pimp?" Hiro said.  
Strike was getting increasingly agitated. "OK NEVER MIND!!! It don't MATTER what's the name of our alliance. It don't MATTER who's 'Head Homey'. What matters is that we wanna WIN this 'groove-tron' shit, a'ight?"  
"Amen to that!" Heat cheered. The young man was acting childish and bouncing up and down in his chair.   
Hiro said, "What you are meaning, 'we' win this? Only one of us can win."   
Strike was silent. He and Hiro exchanged glares. Strike finally said, "We'll worry about that when we get to it."   
"THREE HOME-EEZ, THREE HOME-EEZ, THREE HOME-EEZ!!" Heat was chanting while pumping his fist.   
Strike and Hiro suddenly had a headache. They sighed in unison.  
  
=*=  
  
Somewhere else . . . an eternally grinnin' man and a business-like woman were watching this exchange in a control/editing room setup that included about 50 different TV monitors. They honed in on the TV monitor that showed Strike, Heat, and Hiro.  
"Ohhhhhhhh boy!" said the grinning man (James Suneoka) excitedly. He rubbed his hands together briskly and eagerly. "You see that? You see? They formed an alliance already!"  
The business-like woman (a business-like woman) was barely impressed. "Excuse me, Mr. Suneoka, what's the point of this show again?"  
"AUUUUUGH!" Suneoka screamed as if he'd been stabbed in the heart. "Don't you remember? The premise is simple -- each of the contestants is a skilled dancer. They all compete with each other for the mysterious prize -- the 'groove-tron' superpowers that are powered by the rhythms and passion of dancing!"  
"Uh-huh," said the woman skeptically.  
"Ohhh c'MON, you gotta believe me!" pleaded Suneoka. "The young people will tune in for the hip, funky dancing! The old people will tune in because they're old and watch TV all day. And, right here" -- he indicated the TV screen which showed the 3 Homeys -- "we got a black gangster guy, a white disco guy, and a, um . . . ."   
He hesitated over the descent of Heat. "A breakdancer guy," he finished vaguely. "It hits ALL demographics!! The guys will wanna be like them, and the girls will love them! Aren't they deeeeeeelicious looking?"  
"James are you gay," questioned the woman.  
"And," continued James, ignoring the question, "if you let MEEEEE host the show, I guarantee you we will be raking in the biiiiiig buck-buck-bucks! KA-CHING!!!!" He made a motion like he was pulling the lever on a slot machine. "DING-DING-DING!!! JACKPOT!!!" He began making a siren noise with his mouth.  
"I'm tired of listening to you," interrupted the businesswoman.  
"So you don't like my idea?" James said, his face falling.  
"No, I like the idea. You, however, annoy me."  
"Fair enough!" James grinned.  
"Hmm, 'Dancing Heroes'," the woman said to herself, savoring the sound of the TV show. "Dancing, music, and cutthroat competition."  
"Don't forget groove-tron," Suneoka sang out.  
"Yeah whatever. I like the idea of this show. A lot. We'll see about getting this on BTV."  
"HURRAY!" James said. "This could be my ticket out of being McLoad!"  
"Who's McLoad?"  
"Nobody! Now let's watch our happy contestants some more!"  
They turned their attention back to the TV monitors.  
  
=*= 


	2. Just Gettin' Down

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"ONLY ON BTV"  
  
-Fanfiction by RAVEgirl [RAVEgirl_669@hotmail.com]  
-Bust-A-Groove and all characters are (c) 989 Studios, Avex Trax, Enix, Frame Graphics, and Metro  
=*=*=*=*=*=*=  
  
~Ch. 2: JUST GETTIN' DOWN  
  
The 3 Homeys exited from the conference room of the hotel, a cameraman stealthily following them. While Heat and Hiro tried to show off their sexy-ness to the camera, Strike ducked his head and tried to ignore it. He finally screamed at the cameraman, "DO YOU GOTTA FUCKING FOLLOW US EVERYWHERE?!?!?!?!"  
The cameraman wasn't allowed to speak but he nodded silently.  
"Jeez, what's YOUR problem?" Heat said. "You know, we're gonna be on TV, doesn't that kick ass?"   
Strike pushed his shades up his nose with his index finger, avoiding the camera. "Don't you know who I am?"  
"Duh," Heat said. He turned to the camera and pointed to Strike. "He's Strike. He's wanted in 20 different states for embezzlement, posession of illegal narcotics, armed robbery, drunk driving, sexual harassment, speeding, and -- hey, come to think of it, weren't you on America's Most Wantennnnnnghmmmmmmmph -- "  
Strike clamped a hand heavily over Heat's mouth. "This damn well BETTER not be broadcast live. You edit that out, ya understand?"  
Meanwhile, the cameraman broke his code of silence and hissed at Hiro, "Stop doing that!!!!" while Hiro sexily posed for the camera and was beginning to unbutton the buttons on the coat of his leisure suit, exposing his hairy chest.  
Strike picked up the thin, wiry Heat and threw him into Hiro, knocking them both on the floor. "I've had enough of your shit for today. I'm going to my room."  
"Yeah, go to your room and take a nap. You're gettin' cranky, sweetie!!" Heat said from the floor.   
"If I were REALLY cranky, you'd be dead right now!" threatened Strike, who was slightly irked that Heat's falsetto voice sounded kind of like his mother.  
"Yeah right!"  
KA-BLAMMMMMM POW POW POW!!!!!!  
"MY HAT!!!" Heat sobbed, holding his now hole-y beanie in his hands. Strike stood there holding a smoking firearm in his hand.   
"Bang-bang," Strike said as menacingly as possible.  
Hiro and Heat stared at the Head Homey with newfound respect.  
"And what are ya'll lookin' at!" Strike addressed all the bellhops and tourists in the hotel lobby. "Ain't you never seen a gun before? Outta my way, I wanna nap." He shoved through the stunned crowd while fishing in his pocket for his room key.  
  
=*=  
  
Meanwhile . . . . Not everyone had left the conference room. The majority of the other competitors still remained. The DJ was spinnin' something that sent a heavy thudding bass-filled rhythm across the floor.  
"I don't know," said a middle-aged man, looking through a 40-page "Dancing Heroes Parental Consent" contract. "What about school, honey?" He talked to a little pigtailed girl.  
"You can get me a tutor!" pleaded the girl (Shorty).  
"Well, it seems rather dangerous -- "  
(gunshots rang out from the lobby)  
The father hugged Shorty tightly and was pressing her face into his belly. "DON'T HURT MY BABY!!!!!" he cried out.  
"DAD CUT IT OUT," Shorty mumbled into her father's potbelly. She pushed him away and said through gritted teeth, "I'm TWELVE YEARS OLD now. I can HANdle it."  
"I don't kn -- say what's that music?" Her father listened to the DJ's music. He suddenly had a flashback to his younger days of being a DJ, before he became a UN diplomat. He began moving his head to the music as only an old guy can. "Yeah . . . YEAH, I'm feeling this!"  
"DAD STOP!!!!! STOP!!! THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE PRESENT AND THEY CAN SEE YOU!!!!!" She frantically hit her father in the arm.  
"I'm just 'getting down'," her dad said, suddenly grinning. "Alright, you can compete. I remember what it feels like to dance now -- I remember the music. I remember the crowds and the lights, the recognition. But now I'm too old to dance! Shorty, your youth is a precious thing, I want you to enjoy it! You MUST sign up for this 'Dancing Heroes' thing!!! I ORDER YOU TO!!!!"  
"Yay~!!" Shorty screamed while hugging her father.  
"But be careful, Shorty. Don't get involved with those people." He pointed to the lobby where a young man of unknown descent with reddish-dyed hair was mourning the death of his beanie-hat.  
"I won't, I SWEAR!!"  
Shorty's father signed the contract and Shorty signed her name beneath his. Five minutes later, her dad's cell phone rang.  
"Hello? . . . um, well, I know you said NOT to, but . . . I think it will be a good experience for her . . . I . . . jeez," Shorty's dad spoke on the cell phone. He held the phone away from his ear and looked at it. His wife just hung up on him.   
"What did Mama say?" Shorty asked.  
"She -- fully supports you, just like me!" lied Shorty's father. "I'll go now." They hugged again. "Are you sure you'll be OK?"  
"YE-EEESSSSSS."  
"Well, if you ever get lonely, just call me." He poined to his cell phone.  
"I WON'T get lonely."  
"Oh. Well, see you later. And if you don't win, that's OK, I still love you."  
"I'm NOT gonna lose."  
"That's nice honey!! 'Bye! I'll watch you on TV!!"" He kissed her on top of her head and walked out the door of the hotel, waving.  
She waved back, but her wave was more of a "go away" kind of wave. Shorty wanted to be an independent woman!!!  
  
=*= 


	3. Elevator Operator

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"ONLY ON BTV"  
  
-Fanfiction by RAVEgirl [RAVEgirl_669@hotmail.com]  
  
-Bust-A-Groove and all characters are (c) 989 Studios, Avex Trax, Enix, Frame Graphics, and Metro  
  
=*=*=*=*=*=*=  
  
~Ch. 3: ELEVATOR OPERATOR  
  
The 3 Homeys, Shorty, and the other dancers located their hotel rooms throughout the hotel as the sun went down in the sky . . . .  
  
=*=  
  
Shorty was giving herself a little pep talk. "Alright, Shorty," she mumbled quietly. "This is going to be a GOOD experience for me!" Away from school, and away from home, she felt like she could reinvent herself. Here, at the "Bust-A-Groove" competition, she wanted to be mature and have lots of friends. Starting -- now!!! --   
  
"Wow this is a nice hotel isn't it?" Shorty commented in a friendly way to one of the other dancers, a tanned teenage girl with blue-ish hair and camouflage pants.   
  
The teenage girl barely turned her head to look at Shorty. "Umm yeah. Sure."  
  
"I'll talk to you later!" Shorty forced herself to be friendly while the older girl walked away. "Bitch," Shorty said very quietly. She lugged her huge suitcase down the hall to the elevator.  
  
=*=  
  
Heat and Hiro walked down the hall of the hotel.   
  
"So," Heat said. "Hey -- I'm talking to you, um, Hino."  
  
"Hiro!!!" corrected Hiro angrily. He was busily coming his hair and admiring his reflection in a hand mirror that said "I (love) me" on it. His hair was kind of darkish brown with a blondish tint to it. He thought it was hot.   
  
"You love you? Oh, jeez," Heat groaned.   
  
They came to a turn in the hallway. Heat walked around the corner but Hiro walked into a wall because he was preoccupied with himself. His eyes bugged out and his cigarette fell out of his mouth.  
  
"AHAHAHAHAHAH!!! AAAAAHHAAAAHHAAA!!!!" Heat laughed so much he was starting to get a side-stitch.  
  
Hiro brushed his leisure suit off and got a new cigarette. He patted his hair and tried to look totally calm except for the fact that his face was burning.   
  
"You're hi-larious," Heat chuckled. They were now in front of the elevator so Heat pressed the UP button.  
  
"Hey, you guys, um, hold the elevator?" Shorty walked up, dragging her suitcase.  
  
"Hey, um, you, um, alright," Heat mocked her. He nudged Hiro. "Hey look it's Punky Brewster!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!" He thought that was funny.  
  
"Who's Punky Brewster?" said Hiro and Shorty at the same time.   
  
The elevator door ding'ed open. Heat ran inside.   
  
Hiro looked down at Shorty. "Can I help you?" he said to her.  
  
"Wh-what? Oh um yeah, thank you!!!" Shorty stuttered while Hiro took her suitcase for her and walked in the elevator.  
  
Heat pressed all the buttons so the elevator stopped on every floor.  
  
"You DUMBASS," Hiro said to Heat. Hiro had learned the word, "dumbass" pretty quickly after having it used on him a couple of times.  
  
"Well if they didn't want me to press the buttons, they shouldn't have put the buttons there," Heat said flippantly.  
  
The 2 of the 3 Homeys suddenly noticed the young Shorty staring up at them. They stared back down at her.  
  
Shorty looked at the bullet-hole-riddled beanie on Heat's head. Suddenly she recognized Heat and Hiro as the troublemakers her father warned her to avoid. Her eyes grew wide. What if they tried to mug her or kill her while they were stuck inside the elevator?   
  
"Why are you looking at us like that?" Heat said finally.  
  
"N-nothing, I mean, no reason -- I just -- hey aren't you that r-racecar driver?" Shorty said with a nervous smile.  
  
Heat picked up Shorty and shook her. "RAAAAAAARGH I WAS a racecar driver!! I WAS!!!!!"  
  
"Put her down," Hiro said.   
  
"No you put her down!" Heat screamed as he put Shorty down. He now had a pouty look on his face after being reminded of his suddenly-terminated racing career.   
  
"Ummm well whaddaya know? This is my floor!! See you guys later (hopefully not)," Shorty called out as she took her suitcase from Hiro and ran out the door. Well, it wasn't really her floor, but she suddenly had this urge to take the stairs after being shaken by the bad boy Heat.   
  
Hiro laughed at the last comment Shorty had said. Heat was frowning.   
  
"She is only a little girl," Hiro said, blowing smoke out of his mouth. "You didn't have to scare her."  
  
"Shut up, I hate you," Heat said.   
  
=*=  
  
(Strike's room)  
  
Strike was sprawled out on his bed staring at the ceiling . . . .  
  
Knock-knock-knock.  
  
"WHAT," Strike yelled without getting up.  
  
On the other side of the door, Heat stifled a giggle and said with a Spanish accent, "Room service."  
  
Strike got up and opened the door. Heat was grinning stupidly at him on the other side.  
  
"Ugh," Strike said. He closed the door.   
  
Heat knocked again.  
  
Strike re-opened the door. "Go AWAY."  
  
"Wanna come get dinner with me and Here-o?"   
  
"Hell no."  
  
"Hiro's paying!" Heat said enticingly.  
  
"I AM NOT," Hiro yelled.   
  
"I do not wanna go anywhere with you morons!" Strike said clearly, enunciating the important words.   
  
"But we're the 3 Homeys," Heat reminded Strike. "Come on, come out to dinner with your dancin' brothers."  
  
"Number one, never say 'brothers' again. Number two, Hiro's paying?" Strike said. The 3 Homeys . . . that was Strike's idea to win . . . these two poor suckers, Hiro and Heat, had no idea how much they'd be manipulated . . . .   
  
=*= 


	4. Dinnertime and Heat's Sweeeeet Ride

=*=*=*=*=*=*=  
"ONLY ON BTV"  
  
-Fanfiction by RAVEgirl [RAVEgirl_669@hotmail.com]  
-Bust-A-Groove and all characters are (c) 989 Studios, Avex Trax, Enix, Frame Graphics, and Metro  
=*=*=*=*=*=*=  
  
~Ch. 4: DINNERTIME AND HEAT'S SWEEEEET RIDE  
  
Shorty located her hotel room. She put the key card in the door and opened it.  
"Woooooooow," she commented to herself. (Her dad had rented a luxury suite for her.)  
"This is sweet," Shorty continued. She dragged her suitcase over to her bed and dropped it there. A squeaking noise came out.  
"Oops, forgot about Columbo." She opened her suitcase and pulled out a furry brown cube. She tapped it with her index finger. It puffed out into the shape of a mouse which blinked cutely up at Shorty.  
"Hi Columbo," she said to her pet.   
Columbo blinked a few more times then bit angrily onto Shorty's hand. Instead of screaming (she's used to it), Shorty merely said, "I'm sorry I forgot your carrying case and had to pack you in my suitcase with my socks and stuff, and then forgot about you for a while, so you might have suffocated."  
Columbo did not accept the apology and he stayed gripped onto Shorty's hand. Shorty sighed and took a hamburger out of her pocket. Columbo released her hand and devoured the hamburger.  
"There ya go," Shorty said. She had a cute, bright smile on her face even though she was shaking her hand in pain.   
  
=*=  
  
(Back in the control/editing room)  
"Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww~!!" James Suneoka squaled loudly.  
"What?! WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?!" screamed the business-like woman, dropping her issue of "Soap Opera Digest".  
Suneoka came over to tug on the lady's arm and showed her the TV monitor with Shorty on it. "Look at this CUTE little girl we got on the show now! And her cute hamster. Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww -- "  
"Oh, she is rather cute," the woman said (while James Suneoka continued saying "aw").  
" -- wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww~!! Now we got the five year old demographic! Yippie-ki-yo-ki-yay!"  
James Suneoka began doing a victory dance.  
"Stop that," the woman said.  
James Suneoka stopped with a sad look on his face. "You didn't like my dancing?"  
"That was dancing? I thought you were having a seizure."   
"Aw." (He said "aw" differently this time.) But James Suneoka didn't stay depressed for long; he soon turned his attention to a nearby television monitor. "Check this out!"  
  
=*=  
  
Strike walked down the hall with Hiro and Heat.   
"So where's the local food joint?" Strike said.  
"I know this really great food place," Heat said. "Come on, the 'Driver Homey' will take y'all there."  
"Huh?" said Strike and Hiro.  
Heat heaved a huge sigh. "I'm the Driver Homey? Remember?"  
"Huh?" they said again.  
"Never mind."  
The three went down to the basement of the hotel where Heat's car was parked. It was a souped-up sports car. He had cordoned it off with police tape so that nobody would touch it.  
"That's my baby!" Heat said proudly. "Whatta sweet ride, eh?"  
Strike whistled real low. "Got that right."  
Hiro said, "Wow, that is a nice paint job you are having, there." (Heat's car is black with flames painted on it.)  
"Daaaaaaamn right," Heat said slowly. He turned to the cameraman who kept following them to make sure that the cameraman also looked impressed.   
"Well let's see how fast this thing can go!" Strike said.  
Heat slowly removed the police tape. Then he pulled his car key from his pocket. He pressed a button and the car made a beeping noise and the doors unlocked. He slowly opened the driver side door and eased in, holding his breath.   
He exhaled and stroked his hand over the dashboard.  
"Shotgun," yelled Strike.  
"Oh-k-kay," Hiro consented, nervously eyeing the actual guns Strike had in his possesion.  
Strike and Hiro jumped in the car.  
"Woah, easy," Heat lectured. "You don't wanna scare my honey here."  
Strike rolled his eyes.  
Heat swallowed a lump of emotion in his throat. He put his key in the ignition, closed his eyes, and started the engine.   
  
=*=  
  
(On the road)  
Heat was driving, Strike was in the passenger seat, and Hiro had to sit in the backseat with the camera guy.  
They were going about 10 mph down a city street. There were about 8 different cars behind them, all of which had drivers which were leaning on their car horns.  
"Slow down, speed demon," Strike said sarcastically.  
"Aw, jeez, you think I'm goin' too fast, really?" Heat said, slowing down even more.  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!!" screamed everyone else in the car, even the cameraman.   
While Hiro screamed his cigarette fell out of his mouth and landed on Heat's upholstery which caused Heat to scream, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!!"   
After the crisis was averted and Hiro wasn't allowed to smoke anymore in the car ("AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"), they sloooooooooooooooooooowly made it to Burger Dog.  
  
=*=  
  
(Inside Burger Dog)  
Hiro ordered a glass of water while Heat and Strike ordered steaks.  
"Hey that's not fair," Hiro whined. "You can't order steak in a Burger Dog."  
"Sure you can," Strike said. "So, Heat, what the hell was that back there? Whatta waste of a car. You drive so slow, man. Aren't you a racecar driver?"  
Heat's eyes had flames in them. "Raarrrgh," he said, gripping his steak knife. "I WAS a racecar driver. I WAS." He took a drink of water and calmed down.   
"So, anyway," he continued. "Let me set the scene for you -- the day of the championship race. I was the favored to win. I had corporate sponsors from everywhere. Everybody loved me and everybody wanted me."  
"Pshh," Hiro said.  
"I was on my last lap. 'Yes!' I thought. 'This is all me. I'm gonna take the trophy. Yesssah.' I flew down the straightaway and came down to the curve. I hit the breaks and nothing happened. The track turned, my car didn't. I drove into the wall and my car exploded."  
Strike laughed.  
Heat frowned, "When I came to it was a month later. My racing career was over. Everybody forgot about me. And to this day, I'm afraid to drive fast. But I don't care, 'cuz you know why?"  
"Why," Strike said boredly.  
Heat smirked evilly. He held out his hand. Everyone stared at it. Suddenly his hand seemed to spontaneously combust.   
"Cool," Strike said in the same bored tone of voice.  
"Aw, come on guys, tell me that isn't the coolest fucking shit ever," Heat whined. "I have firepowers!! You know, from the accident and -- "  
"Can you do that again?" Hiro said. He lit his cigarette off of Heat's finger.  
"Fuck it," Heat growled.  
Somebody roller-skated up to the table. Everybody stared at her see-through short skirt.  
"Hi Comet," said Heat. "I have firepowers."   
"Lovely," Comet said. "Hey, are all your friends in that groovy-tron competition, too?"   
"Yeah yeah check this," Heat said. "This is my crew. That there's Strike, and that's Hiro-kun. He's from Italy so he speaks English bad."  
"Badly," Comet corrected.  
Hiro didn't look at Comet. Instead he slowly hid underneath the table.  
"What the fuck are you doing, Hiro-kun?" Strike said to the underneath of the table.  
"I, um, dropped a quarter down here," Hiro whispered.  
"Why aren't you in the competition too, Comet? You could be my dancing partner," Heat said sexily. He reached out his hand to Comet and let it rest on her waist.  
"Can I have a kiss," said Heat.  
"You can have your check," said Comet. She held out the check.  
"Oh, Hiro's picking up the check tonight," Heat said.  
Comet handed the check to Hiro, who was still under the table looking for his "quarter". He accepted it even though his hand was shaking.  
"Comet," Heat said even more sexily. "When your shift's over, wanna come for a ride with me? -- Comet? Hey where did she go?"  
Comet had skated away when Heat wasn't looking. Heat was still holding his hand out as if it was on her waist, even though she wasn't there anymore.  
"I think she hates you, man," Strike said. "Um, just outta curiosity, how old is she?"  
"Aw she's like 16 or something," Heat mumbled.  
"Oh," said Strike, immediately losing interest.  
"Anyways she's just a little mad 'cuz I used to date her sister, Frida, when I was in high school."  
"Frida? You mean that girl who's in the competition with us?" Strike chuckled.  
"Arrgh! My ex-girlfriend's in the competition?!?!" Heat said.  
Comet skated back up to the table. This time she brought a fat guy with her.  
"This is my boss, Hamm," Comet explained.  
"Hey hey hey you guys," the fat guy (Hamm) said. "You are all in the competition with me! Comet told me you were eating here and I came out to ask if I can join your alliance."  
"No, this alliance is only for sexy people," Heat blurted out.  
"Oh so it's like that," said Hamm fatly. "Well we'll see who dances better tomormunch munch munch" -- Hamm stopped talking and began eating everyone's leftovers.  
"What a bunch of weirdoes," Strike said, watching Heat put his hand on Comet's ass, Hamm eating everyone's dinner, and Hiro hiding underneath the table.  
"Oh ahh here's my quarter," Hiro lied. He picked up an invisible quarter and put it in the pocket of his leisure suit.  
  
=*= 


	5. Dirty Dancing!!

=*=*=*=*=*=*=  
"ONLY ON BTV"  
  
-Fanfiction by RAVEgirl [RAVEgirl_669@hotmail.com]  
-Bust-A-Groove and all characters are (c) 989 Studios, Avex Trax, Enix, Frame Graphics, and Metro  
=*=*=*=*=*=*=  
  
~Ch. 5: DIRTY DANCING  
  
It was a warm night...Hiro-kun was out by the pool smokin' a cigarette as usual. He looked up at the sky and got lost in his thoughts. He was unable to sleep because he was so excited about the competition tomorrow--  
"cough cough," somebody behind him coughed.  
Hiro turned around to see a little girl in her PJ's who was hiding behind a plant. "Hey, I know you...you are that girl from the elevator." (She didn't say anything.) "Why are you being behind that plant, there? Are you trying to be a spy on me? Haha. That was a joke."   
Shorty came out from behind the plant with a nervous laugh. "I--I was just takin' a walk. I'm real excited about that competition." She smiled up at Hiro.  
"Yeah me too," Hiro said. "You know, a little girl needs a lot of sleep...."  
"I am not a LITTLE GIRL."  
Hiro smiled. "I'm sorry, I was meaning to say 'young woman'. Look, I was just about to go inside and to sleep myself, you know?" He patted Shorty on the head like a puppy. "See you tomorrow."  
Shorty blushed a little and stared at him as he walked off.  
  
=*=  
  
(Day 1 of the Competition)  
The dancers filed into the set which was plainly decorated with a couple of stage lights. Strike collared his shorter counterparts before they could enter the room.  
"gfskack," Heat strangled.  
"We all make an entrance together. They gonna learn to mess with the--(sigh)--the 3 Homeys," Strike stated.   
"Can we temporarily break the alliance and walk in separately? Hiro-kun's dressed homosexually," Heat requested.  
Hiro was wearing a sailor outfit complete with a striped shirt and a white pair of pants with creases ironed into it. He even had a hat and sunglasses.  
"No," Strike commanded.   
Heat began singing the song "In the Navy" while they walked in trying to look as "homey" as possible.  
  
=*=  
  
(In the control room)  
"Ooh that's my favorite song," said James Suneoka with little cartoony hearts coming out of his head.  
  
=*=  
  
Cameramen filmed the very start.  
"The tournament is one-on-one, elimination style," DJ Dangerous (the official DJ of the tournament) announced. He suddenly got a ring on his cell phone. He answered. "Yo, DJ Dangerous speakin'," he said.  
"Helloooooo Bradford~!!" said James Suneoka on the other end of the line.  
"My name's DJ Dangerous now!" the DJ hissed into the phone while turning away from the contestants who were staring at him eagerly. "What do you want?!"  
"Put the fat guy and the exotic dancer on first," James whispered.  
"Why?"  
"I want to eliminate the less popular dancers first. According to this popularity poll which I put on this website I made, the least popular character is Hamm with .008% of the votes. The MOST popular appears to be the luscious Italian man, Hiro-kun."  
"YES!!!!!" Hiro cheered. He had used his laptop to access the website and vote for himself fifty million times.   
The DJ suddenly realized Hiro was standing next to him eavesdropping. He inched away.  
"OK, whatever you say boss," Bradford (I mean, DJ Dangerous) said. "But do we really have to get rid of the stripper?"  
"Yes," James insisted.  
"Fine," DJ Dangerous sighed reluctantly. He hung up his cell phone and announced the first match: "HAMM vs. PINKY!! You're up. Let's bust a move! -- I mean, groove!"  
The overweight man from Burger Dog, and an exotic woman dressed in pink hooker-style clothing, stepped up.  
  
=*=  
  
James Suneoka looked at his chart of ratings. The ratings plummeted.  
"Oh no we're boring!" Suneoka said. The businesslike woman in the room with him was looking at her wristwatch.  
"I'll make it more interesting, I promise!" James sobbed because the woman was about to rip up their business contract.  
  
=*=  
  
(Shorty's house -- TV room, where one whole wall is a giant TV)  
"See?" Shorty's father said to his wife. "It's just a nice, clean dancing competition. Shorty'll be alright."  
  
=*=  
  
Hamm's theme song was playing and occasionally the dancer's shoes would make squeaking noises on the floor. It was very boring. The other dancers were half-asleep except for Shorty who was entirely asleep.  
Ring ring....  
"DJ Dangerous," the DJ spoke his own name by way of greeting.  
"Hi, it's James again."  
"Wh -- we're on LIVE!! Go away!"  
"Do something to make the show more interesting!! Now!"  
"Um, uhh," the DJ said. "I'll see what I can do." He put his phone back in his vest pocket.  
Hamm was shuffling around in place and Pinky was dancing motown style.  
"Ah I know." The DJ ran outside and came back with a pole so Pinky could do some strip club dancing.  
Ring --  
"What!"  
"The ratings just went up one half of a point. Now do something else. Get that fat guy a pole, too."  
"I don't think that will work, Mr. Suneoka."  
"Well you think of something better."  
DJ Dangerous looked at the two dancers. "Oh wow this is pretty close! I'd say they're tied even though I didn't really know you could score dancing. Who will win? WHO! WILL! WIN!?"  
The dancer's foreheads were shiny with sweat. Hamm accidentally tripped Pinky. They both stumbled a little bit.  
"WOAH the fat man just stripped the tripper, I mean, well you know what I meant!" the DJ said. "Is Hamm making a comeback?"  
"RRRRRGH~!!" Pinky grunted. She panted, "You fatass, stop screwing me up."  
"Huh?" Hamm said. He turned to Pinky and knocked her over with his fat stomach in the process.  
Pinky stood up, her eye twitching. "ALRIGHT THAT'S *IT*!!!!!!" She reached into her top and produced a deck of cards. "Let's see what the future holds!" She held a card to her forehead for a few seconds then threw it at Hamm--it was the DEATH CARD!?!?   
Everything in the room went pitch black. "Spirits in the room," Pinky said in a deep voice, "speak to me now. I have foretold his sentence of death, but you must tell me, HOW will he die?"  
"Wh-what spirits?" Heat whispered from the sidelines.   
"HAHAHAHAH, HA!!" Pinky laughed while her shadow spirits came out of the ceiling.   
DJ Dangerous frantically tried flipping on the light switch in the room but to no avail.  
On one wall, the silhouette of a fat man with a bad haircut (it looked a lot like Hamm) was shown. A loud clap of thunder echoed in the room and a bolt of lightning was shown hitting the shadow-man on the wall. He fell....  
"The future is now," Pinky announced.   
Her prophecy acted itself out on the real Hamm. FLASH!!!!....CRASH.....!!!!!!!!  
"WAAAAAAAAARGH," Hamm shouted as his fat body hit the floor. The lights came back on to reveal Hamm sprawled out on the floor.  
"OHHHHHHHH NO~!!" DJ Dangerous screamed. "PINKY, YOU'RE DISQUALIFIED! What the hell was that?!?!?!?!"  
Ri--  
"WHAT NOW?!?!" DJ Dangerous spoke through gritted teeth into his cell phone.   
"THAT WAS FANTASTIC~!!!!! Our ratings went up a BAJILLION points right then!!!!"  
"But with all due respect, Mr. Suneoka, that was playing dirty."  
Suneoka's response changed the whole competition..."So?" he said with no emotion in his voice.  
"M...Mr. Suneoka."  
"Ooooh!! Ohhh! Put me on the microphone, I'd like to address the remaining dancers."  
"...whatever you say," the DJ said, pressing the END button on his Nokia then hitting the CONTROL RM button on the switchboard nearby his turntables.  
"HELLOOOOOOO!!" Suneoka's voice greeted everyone. "What a fabulous match, no?"  
"Yah, whatever, it was alright," Heat agreed, shrugging. He was the only dancer who was unphased by the voice coming from nowhere.   
"Well, I'm afraid this match is null and void!! Pinky is disqualified because of her dirty tactics, but what an AMAAAAAAZING card trick~!!!!! Hamm is also unable to compete because of the multiple trauma he's just recieved!"  
A mature blonde woman in a skintight blue babysuit looked up at the ceiling. (Meanwhile, Hiro-kun was lookin' at her.) "Excuse me, but is Hamm dead?" the woman (Kelly) asked.  
"(long pause)....Well I'm not a doctor but I'm sure we'll find out when the paramedics get here."  
  
=*=  
  
(Control room)  
James Suneoka cut off the live transmission and grinned at the businesslike woman. "How's THAT for ratings?!"  
"Alright, we can keep the show going for at least one more week."  
"GLORY, GLORY HALLELHHHHHuhh--" Suneoka fell out of his chair after being high-heeled in the ribcage by the businesslike woman.  
"When are we going to get some paramedics for that poor man?" the woman questioned Suneoka.  
"Wait, I'm building up suspense," Suneoka said. He held up his hand. "3-2-1...NOW!" Suneoka pressed a button on his control panel.  
  
=*=  
  
(Back at the sound stage)  
An electric door suddenly whooshed open and some medics tromped out with a stretcher and medical supplies. They knelt down by Hamm. All the rest of the dancers watched.   
"He's perfectly fine, no problems here," one of the medics announced. "His obesity must have acted as a ground against the lightning, or something." The medic then quickly made his exit before somebody asked him to further explain his scientific theory.  
"YAY!!!!!!!!" all the other dancers cheered. They all broke into wild applause.  
Hamm sat up, perfectly fine. "Woah, what happened? What was that card trick?"  
"I didn't mean to hurt you," Pinky sighed. "Well, I did, but I'm sorry now."  
They shook hands....  
  
=*=  
  
(Let's take a look inside the 3 Homey Football-Style Huddle):  
"That was, like, MAN. Dirty dancing!!" Heat exclaimed. "Did you see that? I didn't know we could summon spirits in the tourney! Ohhh DUDE!!!"  
"Shut up fucker. Can't you see what's going on?" Strike said. "The competition is fixed. I'm not sure how it's working, but that--yo! Hiro, we're in HERE."  
Hiro's mouth was slightly open and his head was turned almost all the way around so he could watch Kelly, that woman in the tight outfit...woooooooooooooow--SMACK!!!   
"Ohhhhuhh...." Hiro fell to the floor after recieving a heavy handed slap to the back of his skull.  
"LISTEN to me when I'm talking to you!" Strike yelled, withdrawing his hand. He grabbed the dazed Hiro-kun off the floor and propped him up so he could properly participate in the conversation.  
Hiro leaned on Heat.  
"Argh," Heat said quietly, afraid to protest for fear of recieving his own concussion.  
"We can't win this competition by playing it straight," Strike mused. "We gotta put an edge to our strategy...but how?"   
Heat surreptitiously nudged Hiro so that he fell over and leaned on Strike instead.  
"AUGH!!!" Strike let Hiro fall back on the floor.   
  
=*= 


	6. PILLOW FIGHT!! (The Second Alliance is B...

=*=*=*=*=*=*=  
"ONLY ON BTV"  
  
-Fanfiction by RAVEgirl [RAVEgirl_669@hotmail.com]  
-Bust-A-Groove and all characters are (c) 989 Studios, Avex Trax, Enix, Frame Graphics, and Metro  
=*=*=*=*=*=*=  
  
~Ch. 6: PILLOW FIGHT!! (THE SECOND ALLIANCE IS BORN)  
  
(Kelly's hotel room)  
"Pillow fight!! Tee hee hee~!!" Frida threw a pillow in Kelly's face.  
"Oh, you BITCH! You are SO goin' down!" Kelly retorted. "Let's get her, girl!" The two blonde women, Kelly and Kitty-N, began attacking the blue-haired girl with pillows. They all shrieked and laughed with pillows flying everywhere.  
Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep....  
The three women immediately dropped their pillows and stopped smiling. They glared at the cameraman who was looking mournfully at his digital wristwatch timer that was betraying him by beeping so loudly.  
"That was a five minute pillow fight, where's our money?" Kelly asked gruffly.  
The cameraman handed each of the women $50. "Hey," the cameraman said eagerly while gripping fistfuls of cash in his hand, "I'll pay you if you do each other's hair and--"  
"NO!" all the females yelled in unison.   
"OK, well it was worth it just for the pillow fight." The cameraman smiled with a dreamy look on his face and patted his camera. Then he left.  
Kelly sighed. "The things we have to do just to get on TV."  
"Uh-huh," Frida agreed, crossing her arms.   
Kelly and Frida suddenly both looked at Kitty-N.  
"What?" Kitty-N said.  
"You're on TV all the time!"  
"Yeah, so?" Kitty-N said, fluffing her hair.   
WHACK!!!!! Kelly threw a teddy bear in Kitty-N's face. Kitty-N fell over backwards off the bed.  
"What did you guys think of all that creepy voodoo stuff Pinky did today?" Frida asked suddenly.   
"That was terrifying," Kelly said.   
"I think there might be something to it," Frida said.   
"mphhhhhmm mmmmm mmmmm?!" Kitty-N said from the floor. Kelly pulled the teddy bear off of Kitty-N's face and hugged it. "Something to what?!" Kitty-N repeated.  
"Well...I was just thinking, do you ever feel like you have powers you can manipulate?" Frida said cautiously.  
"Nuh-uh," Kitty-N and Kelly shook their heads.   
"Oh then never mind. Just kidding."  
"...."  
"...."  
Somebody knocked on the door and broke the silence.  
"Room service!" somebody called out in a falsetto voice with a Spanish accent.  
"I'll get it," Kelly sighed while lifting herself off the bed.  
"No, don't," Frida said, grabbing Kelly's arm. "I bet that's Heat," she said, narrowing her eyes into slits. "He always knocks on people's doors, and says, 'Room service!' with a Spanish accent, and then runs away giggling. What an asshole."  
Kelly sat back down.  
[Meanwhile, the hotel maid who was outside the door with a cart of delicious dinner food shrugged and walked away when nobody would answer the door.]  
"Who is Heat? That breakdancer with the car? Why do you hate him so much?" Kitty-N said. "He is kind of cute!"  
"Shut up, Kitty," Frida growled in a man-like voice.  
Kitty-N whimpered.   
"Heat is my ex-boyfriend," Frida explained, trying to keep her anger under control. "He was one year ahead of me in high school. He always thought he was SO cool. Psh, WHATEVER!!"  
"Does he play football?" Kitty-N said eagerly. Once she heard "ex-boyfriend" she perked up.  
"Are you kidding? He is too SCRAWNY to play football! He did not do ANYTHING in high school, girl! He just used class as naptime and after the day was over, he would just go outside and drive his car everywhere like he is THE MAN or something!" Frida screamed.   
"Calm down, honey," Kelly said, patting on Frida's hand. "Let's stop talking about your ex-boyfriend; he's getting you too angry. So...are you still in high school?"  
"Yes, I'm a senior now," Frida said in a relaxed voice. "I'm trying to get an art scholarship to a UC school in California."  
"Oh, that's great!" Kelly said encouragingly.  
"...unlike HEAT!" screamed Frida in a man-voice again. "He dropped out of high school HIS senior year to become a racecar driver! And that BITCH, I caught him trying to make the moves on my little sister, Comet!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's a good thing she kicked hi--"  
"So, this is a nice hotel, isn't it?" Kelly said, ignoring Frida who was still ranting and walking around making hand gestures in the background.  
"I've seen better," Kitty-N said.  
Frida started talking louder. "And he thinks he can win this competition with that little '3 Homeboys Alliance'! What the hell is that? He is NOT a homeboy!"   
"Strike is in that alliance," Kitty-N said. "He told me about it."   
"You know Strike personally?" Frida asked in the relaxed voice. "I have both his CDs!!"  
"Do you have *MY* CD?" Kitty-N asked. (Frida shook her head.) "Well, no matter. Yes, I know Strike personally. We are collaborating on an upcoming song. Which is funny because we really do not like each other. It is totally a PR thing."  
"Prrr?" Frida said, trying to figure out what PR stood for.  
"Public relations. So," Kelly said, "who is the third guy in the 3 Homes Alliance?"  
"HEAT?" Frida yelled. "Oh I really hate that motherf--"  
"No, no, the other guy. The well-groomed gentleman with the platforms?"  
"The white guy? That's Hiro," Frida said.   
"Hiro...."  
"He is too young for you, Kelly," Kitty-N said. "He is just a baby compared to you. He's like 20 years old!"  
"Really? Well, that's only 3 years younger than me, not bad. He looks 30, though."  
"You are 23 years old?" Kitty-N said. "Frida, she is 23 years old! Oh my God that is SOOOO old!"   
"Well thanks a lot, Kitten," Kelly said sarcastically.  
Kitty-N didn't like the tone the older woman was using with her. "You are not exactly getting any younger by dressing like a baby and playing with a teddy bear, babyface!!"  
They glared at each other. Frida popped up in between them. "STOOOOOP!!!!!!!!" she screamed.   
"Not now, Frida, I have an airhead I gotta clobber," Kelly said sweetly.  
"No, you guys, I think we should channel our anger against the other dancers instead of against each other. It'll make us more competitive."  
"I am not an airhead," Kitty-N argued.  
"Why don't we form our own alliance?" Frida suggested.  
"Well that's up for debate," Kelly said to Kitty-N about the "airhead" comment.  
"I know this game is going to get tough. I overheard the DJ talking today. This competition is not based on talent alone, it takes maneuvers," Frida continued.  
"I think that you forgot to take your old person medicine, my dear GRANDMOTHER!!!" Kitty-N said to Kelly.  
"Why you LITTLE--alliance?" Kelly said.  
And thus the ALL-GIRL SUPERSTAR TEAM was formed!!   
  
=*= 


	7. The Groove-Tron Formula

=*=*=*=*=*=*=  
"ONLY ON BTV"  
  
-Fanfiction by RAVEgirl [RAVEgirl_669@hotmail.com]  
-Bust-A-Groove and all characters are (c) 989 Studios, Avex Trax, Enix, Frame Graphics, and Metro  
=*=*=*=*=*=*=  
  
~Ch. 8: THE GROOVE-TRON FORMULA  
  
Heat finished his routine up with a back-breaking move that made his 2 viewers cringe. But he sprang right back up to standing position, dusted his hands off, and said, "OH yeah, how was that? Do I got the skills or what?"   
"Gotta admit that was a pretty tight dance," Strike said.  
"Yeah," Hiro said.   
"So, Hiro-kun, when are you gonna show us your dance?" Heat said.  
"Yeah," Hiro said, obviously tuned out.  
Heat sighed. "Hiro, buddy, you're seriously making our alliance VERY LAME." Heat turned to Strike. "The 'Pimp Homey' hasn't hooked us up with any women yet."   
"I don't need Hiro of all people to get me a girl," Strike said.  
"Me neither," Heat said quickly. He leaned over to Hiro, "(whisper) Can I see your phone book with the sexy ladies' numbers?"  
"Huh?" said Hiro with a stupid look on his face and his mouth half open.  
Heat pickpocketed Hiro and held Hiro's (fake leather) day planner in his hand. "You a busy man? Let's see what's in today's agenda--"  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" Hiro jumped over Strike and grabbed onto his day planner thing. But Heat, although a year younger, is stronger, so he wrenched away Hiro's book.  
"AAAAAHH!" Hiro shrieked. Heat opened it eagerly and flipped through it; suddenly his grin changed from eager to sadistic.   
"Ooh this woman sounds sexy: 'mom'. Let's call her. Let's see that number is 141555432678901029485868483829485." (Since Hiro's mom lives all the way in Italy it's long, long LONG distance)   
Strike was laughing loudly which freaked everyone out because Strike doesn't find much funny. "Who else is in that book?" Strike chuckled.  
"Well let's see...there's 'pizza place' and 9-1-1," Heat said. He and Strike shared a hearty laugh over Hiro.  
  
=*=  
  
Meanwhile........  
"AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHH!! AHHHHHHHH!! hahahahaha......" (the sound of Heat and Strike laughing over the TV monitors)  
James Suneoka stood up suddenly. "I'll be right back," he said. He left the room and snuck down the hall. He looked at his pager and picked up a phone.  
"You called for me?" he said.  
"Yes," said a mysterious voice, "have you used the groove-tron formula yet?"  
"Nooooo sir! I don't think we need it anymore."  
"WRONG!!!!!!!!! Use the formula, or DIE!" (SLAM)  
Suneoka heard a dial tone. He stared at the reciever for a while. Then he looked around to make sure nobody was looking and pulled a vial out of his pocket.  
  
=*=  
  
The 3 Homeys were standing around the studio for the Dancing Heroes TV show.   
"Yo Heat. Girl's lookin'at you," Strike said.  
Heat was admiring his new shoes (has to keep buying new ones because his shoes keep melting), but he now put on what he thought was a sexy smile and looked up. There was a girl looking at him. She had blue hair and fatigue pants. But she was not looking with love. She was looking with vengeance.  
"AHHHH!" Heat said. "Ex-girlfriend!" He made a cross with his index fingers and held them up at her which caused her to hold up her middle finger back.  
"You two are being so cute," said Hiro.   
"Damn, she's evil, just wait until her head starts spinning around and shit."  
Strike was distracted. His "gangster sense" was telling him that there was danger nearby. He turned to the shadows behind him and brought the side of his hand down on somebody's collarbone with a crunching sound.   
"Ughhh ahhh....." The guy in the shadows fell over and something fell out of his pocket. A syringe fell out of his hand.  
"Wow, that was cool!" Heat clapped enthusiastically.  
Strike examined the guy on the floor and took the drug-looking paraphernalia out of his hands. Then he studied the guy.   
"Jim Suneoka," said Strike, a frown creasing his forehead.  
"Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy," Heat said, shaking his head. "I never would've thought he was a drug addict. Well, actually . . . ."  
"He wasn't shooting himself up," Strike said. "He was trying to inject this stuff into us."  
"Yeah, whatever, I already got my booster shots," Heat said. He patted half-unconscious Suneoka on the face. "Did you kill him?" Heat asked cheerfully.  
"Naw just paralyzed his arm for a while," Strike said coolly. "Suneoka, I'm taking this stuff, 'kay?"   
"No that's mine," Suneoka said, reaching his non-paralyzed hand out.   
Strike held up his hand in a karate chop again. Suneoka dropped his hand.   
  
=*=  
  
After a day of dancing...........(who cares about the dancing now, we got a conspiracy on our hands!).........  
Strike studied the syringe and vial. "This stuff is buggin' me, man."  
"Let's use it," Heat said. He patted Strike on the arm where a syringe would normally go.  
"Hell no, not me." He began rolling up Heat's sleeve.  
"STOP THAT, MAN!......" They both stopped fighting and smiled.  
"Hiiiiiii-roooooooo," Heat sang out.  
Hiro was combing his cemented hair but said, "What?"  
"C'mere boy."  
"No," Hiro said as soon as he saw the syringe.  
"I just wanna see what this stuff is," Strike insisted.   
"Pretty sure they test drugs on lab rats before they test them on people......" Heat said. He stopped talking and smiled even bigger.  
  
=*=  
  
Heat pushed Hiro around the corner.  
"Why me?" said Hiro.  
"BECAUSE motherfucker you're the most expendable dude -- I mean, because she has a crush on you, man! And who could blame her, with such a hottie, debonaire, poised, well-groomed man such as yourself in her midst!" Heat blathered on and on. "Use your European charms to win that little girly over."   
With each adjective used to describe him, Hiro stood up straighter and smirked bigger. "Well OK." He walked to find Shorty.  
"Hi Shorty," Hiro began sexily. Instead of busting out a pick-up line, he grabbed her pet Columbo off her head and ran.   
"HEY GIVE ME BACK MY COLUMBO -- "  
Hiro ran effeminately down the hall while Shorty chased after him. She was gaining on him so Hiro tossed her pet to Heat. They played football with Columbo for a while until they all got tired.  
Strike panted. He reached in his top and pulled out a fat wad of bills. "Here's . . . . a hundr--naw, sevent--no--five dollars. Can we please have the rat now?"  
"He's MINE," Shorty said angrily.  
"I bet the rat cost like 3 dollars in a pet store, you have a net gain of 2 dollars," Strike negotiated.  
Shorty was beginning to cry.  
"AHHHHHH! You're making a girl cry!" Heat said, freaking out. "I hate when girls cry."  
Shorty's lip trembled. Heat screamed, "STOP! Stop that right now." He covered his eyes so he doesn't have to see her cry. "Give her the rat back, man!"  
"But then we'll never know what this stuff does, yo."  
"I'm calling the police on you," Shorty said.  
Strike surrendered the rat immediately. "Ah, don't do that, kid, I think some of my crimes warrant capital punishment. (quietly) Little fuckin' BRAT!"   
"Shorty, we are just wanting to test out dance-enhancing hormones on Columbo," Hiro lied.  
"Yeah that's it," Heat said.  
"Really?" Shorty said.  
"Really......." Hiro said.  
"You mean it would make Columbo dance better?" Shorty said.  
"Yup."  
"Alright!" Shorty said happily.  
"Shit, man," Strike said. He pulled out the syringe and stuck it in a random vein on the pet.  
Nothing happened.  
"Booooooooring," Heat said. "Let's make him dance or something." He took out his MP3 player and jammed his headphones on the rat's head so the rat started dancing.  
"YEAH! Look at 'im go!" Heat chuckled while watching the rat bounce around.  
"Shut up, man," Strike said.  
Five minutes later a giant flan fell out of the ceiling and crushed Hiro.  
"YEAH!" Heat chuckled some more.  
"What the hell was THAT?" Strike looked up at the ceiling. "Where did that come from?"   
"Columbo really likes flan," said Shorty while Columbo ate some flan.  
"This competition is getting a little too strange for me," Strike said. How many times had he said that since the competition began?  
  
=*= 


End file.
